


Stuck in Love

by trainchomp



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst, M/M, Pining, Pining Simon Snow, Post-Break Up, Post-Canon, This is probably the sadest thing I've ever written, its so short there really arn't that many tags, no happy endings here, so I guess this'll just fade into obscurity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 01:38:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20574335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trainchomp/pseuds/trainchomp
Summary: Simon and Baz have broken up and Baz has moved on. But Simon hasn't.AKA:The one where Simon pines a while.





	Stuck in Love

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning if you didn't read the tags; this does not have a happy ending. I'm feeling angst so I wrote angsty. Also, I feel like Simon and Baz are gonna break up in Wayward Son (and I'm betting Simon's gonna die). Ok! So now that the mood is set, rated Teen for drinking, you may proceed...

Baz looks... happy. I'm glad. I'm happy for him, really. Penny says that's good, that it means that I've moved on.

I'm watching Baz across the bar. I don't think he's even noticed me, which is good. I've kind of been staring. But he's distracted by the guy sitting next to him. He has this look in his eyes. He used to look at me like that. Like I meant everything to him. I take another sip of my drink. It’s been a while since I’ve drunk, especially like this. But Penny’s out of town and Agatha’s visiting, and she brought me here, and then I saw Baz. And now I’ve been drinking more than is probably appropriate for me, being a lightweight. 

I’m not going to do anything stupid, I don’t think. I am _genuinely_ glad that he’s happy. And he does seem happy! I think there was something about me. It was probably my fault. Most things are. 

My glass is empty. 

I call over over the bartender and he pours me another drink. I think he’s been flirting with me, but it could just be that I haven’t had genuine human interaction with someone who could conceivably be into me since Baz and I broke up, and he’s just being a polite customer service person. But then he gives me my drink on the house, and he winks, and yeah, I’m pretty sure he’s flirting with me. I somehow can not bring myself to care.

I keep watching Baz. He’s smiling. I haven’t seen him smile since we first got together. I can’t get over the fact that he’s _happy_. He looks _happy_. Meanwhile, I can’t even flirt with a bartender without thinking about Baz.

Baz Pitch is happy. And I’m hopelessly in love with him.

It would be so many levels of inappropriate for me to go talk to him. And I hate that I want to. I should be angry! Or I should have at least moved on by now. I was so close. So close to moving past him. But every time I get there, I remember his grey eyes and his bloody hair. He used to pull it up, into a bun. Only when we were alone, but I liked it. It was my favourite of his hairstyles.

Baz looks over. 

We make eye contact. I quickly look down, try to pretend I haven’t seen him, but even I know that’s useless. I see him excuse himself from his date and walk all the way around the bar. His partner is watching him.

“Snow,” he says, curtly.

“Pitch,” I respond, and try to keep how drunk I am out of my voice.

Baz cocks an eyebrow at me. I suppress a laugh.

He calls over the bartender to pour him another of whatever he’s drinking.

“Snow,” he says, not looking at me, “look, I know… I know we didn’t end _great_.”

“It was a spectacular flop,” I slur. So much for not letting on how drunk I am.

Baz laughs, and I had all but forgotten what it sounded like. I remembered the feeling, though. Butterflies flutter through my stomach and I want to smile again. But I don’t.

“A flop indeed. Look, Simon,” he finally turns to look at me, “I really didn’t mean for it to end the way it did. Honestly, I didn’t mean for it to end at all. But who wants a relationship to end?” He sighs. I keep looking at him, tracking his eyes with mine.

He continues, “I know it’s naive of me to think we could be friends. I don’t know if I even want that, and I doubt you do. But… I don’t want this animosity. I don’t want this to be a relationship where we avoid each other in bars. And, I mean, I've moved on.” he gestures across the bar to his partner.

“I haven’t,” I sigh, closing my eyes. Baz just stares at me. “Baz… I really… I mean… I just-”

“Snow, you’re drunk,” he says, backing off a bit, “and I have to get back to my boyfriend, and-”

That word, ‘boyfriend’, and I finally break. I can feel my heart shattering. I’m not sure whether to cry, or scream, or _l__augh_. But in the end, it doesn’t matter, because I _knew_ this was true, I _knew_ he had stopped loving me, I was just too fragile to admit it. And Baz went back to his boyfriend, and I picked up flirting a bit with the bartender, and eventually I called Agatha (she was at some jocks place and I was _not_ to call again), and then a taxi to take me home. 

Falling out of love is slow and gradual and sometimes imperceptible, but it’s always painful. And it’s so unfair that some of us can move on while the rest of us are still stuck in love.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Tell me what you thought, even (especially) if you hated it! Kudos keep my heart from shattering into a million pieces and bleeding all over my carpet.


End file.
